


Retrospect

by Xero_Sky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Post-Operation Pitfall (Pacific Rim), Waffles, Yancy Becket Lives, smutty snuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-09
Updated: 2017-12-09
Packaged: 2019-02-12 17:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12964785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xero_Sky/pseuds/Xero_Sky
Summary: The best-laid plans of jaeger pilots do often go awry...





	Retrospect

Raleigh sits up and scrubs a hand over his face, but he knows he can’t quite make it out of bed yet, so he leans back against the headboard and contemplates his life.

Shit.

He doesn’t even want to think what Yancy’s going to say about this.  His brother is right more often than is reasonable, if not as often as he thinks, and he knows it.  He doesn’t even say “I told you so” anymore when Raleigh ignores him; he just gives him _that look_ , and the ghost drift says the rest.  Ugh.

Not that this is a Yancy thing, not exclusively.  They just had an agreement.  _Stay away from the Hansens._   Train with them, go to war with them, even be friendly with them, but don’t – do _not_ – have sex with them.  Not again. No matter how _unreasonably_ hot they all are.  History had shown it could only end in tears, and probably assault charges. 

He and Yance had both agreed.  Multiple times, even, often over heroic amounts of alcohol.  The Hansens had been off-limits since Manila, and the subtraction of Scott and addition of Chuck hadn’t changed that decision one bit. 

Manila.  _Damn._

Raleigh hadn’t even been sure he liked men until 48 hours of Hansen-based debauchery had rocked his world.  Then it had all gone wrong. The morning after, freshly scrubbed and hickies hidden, they’d piled into the elevator to find their escorts.  Within two floors, Scott had called Raleigh a perfect boy-whore and Yancy had knocked him on his ass for it before Raleigh had even finished processing.  Scott probably hadn’t meant it badly, but he’d never had much control over his mouth.  Given who and what they were, the resulting fight had been inevitable.  It hadn’t really been their fault that the elevator doors had finally opened to a lobby full of journalists.

The consequences had been dire, including a loss of off-base privileges, no more swanky hotels, and excruciating press conferences where they’d had to apologize for embarrassing the PPDC and letting people down.  They’d been somber and repentant, and hadn’t given the slightest hint of what they’d been up to earlier, but the commandment had still come down from on-high (the Marshall himself) to stay the hell away from each other.

Hansens plus Beckets was obviously a bad combination, no matter how fond the memories were.  If they’d needed proof, Scott had proven himself outstanding at holding a grudge, and it was just best for all concerned that they made sure there were no repeats.

Raleigh gets an echo through the drift now, a memory of the taste of Herc Hansen’s skin, and he stops reminiscing.  Whatever Yancy’s up to tonight, he probably doesn’t need that particular trip down memory lane.  Especially not right now.

Not after Raleigh has broken their agreement so spectacularly.

*******

Before Pitfall, it hadn’t been too difficult to avoid the Hansens because he and Yance hadn’t been in the same Shatterdome with the Hansens until they all moved to Hong Kong.  During Pitfall, they’d all been busy.  Afterwards, though, with all four of them surviving… didn’t they deserve a little fun?  If there was ever a time to indulge yourself, it was after three weeks in Medical, proving that you weren’t actually as injured as the docs insisted you might be. 

Raleigh had been pleasantly drunk earlier tonight, warm and full of equally warm thoughts, laughing with his brother and flirting with pretty much anything that moved, when Chuck Hansen, with that fucking smile of his, had moved into his line of vision and never left.  Sure, he was an asshole, but so was Yancy, and Raleigh got along with him just fine.

What was a man supposed to do?

Because, _Jesus_.  Scrawny twink Hansen had grown up into 6 feet of muscle and attitude, and the way he’d looked Raleigh over had gone straight to his dick.  Raleigh was built and he knew it, but that didn’t make him immune to those shoulders and that ass. 

Chuck had said something bitchy and Raleigh didn’t even remember the shitty thing he’d answered back, because they’d both had something completely different in mind by time they’d finished their ritual greeting.

There hadn’t even been much attempt at flirting after that, because there was already _no way_ they weren’t going to end up naked together, hopefully in someone’s bed, preferably one of their own.

Currently, they’re in Chuck’s room, and Chuck is sprawled out on his stomach, right where he’d collapsed after they were done. His arms are crossed under his pillow, and his eyes are closed, as if he couldn’t have kept awake a single second afterwards.  There’s still a smile on his face, and Raleigh takes a little pride in that.  He’d done his damnedest to wear the kid out, and he feels pretty good about his work.

But things were the way they were.

Their hookup had been sudden and unplanned, and they’d gone a couple of rounds before running out of steam, and now is the time for Raleigh to find his clothes and get the hell out.  He’ll wake Chuck up first and say goodbye, because he’s not a dick, but this is over.

Raleigh doesn’t cuddle with his hookups, like, at all.  Over the years, he’s become a big fan of the wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am school of interpersonal relationships, for a lot of reasons, many of them excellent.  (The chick who’d hit him with a chair because he wouldn’t sign her vulva with a Sharpie so she could get it tattooed had been a key lesson.)  Even the ones who hadn’t turned out to be jaeger flies had balked at the security levels he lived with, or the dangers of being a jaeger pilot, or his permanent telepathic link with his brother, and called things off before they got anywhere.  It had proven infinitely better to love ‘em and leave ‘em before they couldn’t deal with his situation anymore and left him.

Of course, Chuck must know all about that shit. As far as Raleigh’s heard, he lives by the same creed, and there’s no reason he should be offended if Raleigh leaves.

Except that Chuck, still asleep, turns over and sort of backs into Raleigh all at the same time, pressing miles of hot skin up against his side before relaxing again. 

Goddamnit. 

Despite his convictions, Raleigh doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.

Partly it’s because he’s comfortable as fuck and all he really wants to do is slide down and spoon up against that broad back.  The room is cold and Chuck’s putting out heat like the sun.  Running a hand over those muscles and curling it around his waist before drifting off would be nothing but pleasure.  To be honest, he hasn’t really been able to keep his hands off him since this started, when they’d just gotten the door shut and Chuck’s clothes became the enemy.

There’s also the fact that Chuck had turned out to be honestly great in bed. Flat-out amazing, really.  Raleigh hadn’t really been looking for anything more than a good, hard fuck, but Chuck had been slow and even affectionate, taking his time to learn what made Raleigh respond the best. It’d been a surprise, and nothing like he’d expected from Chuck, but Raleigh had gotten on board with it right away.  It might even have been the best sex he’d ever had, although, to be honest, he didn’t even remember most of his hookups, and there was always the chance that what he did remember were Yancy’s memories instead of his.  He really doubted that there’d been anyone like Chuck, though. Chuck was extraordinary.

Chuck made him do things he didn’t usually do.  He didn’t kiss anyone he hadn’t been with before, didn’t cuddle, and didn’t stick around. 

Chuck had kissed like he was starving for it.  How the hell was he supposed to resist that?

He’d been pretty goddamned sure Chuck wasn’t the cuddling type either, but after that… admittedly magnificent sex, he hadn’t done a thing to make Raleigh feel like he wasn’t completely welcome to stay.

Not that it would be easy to walk away from a sight like that anyway.

There are bite marks, red and fading, all over Chuck’s shoulders, one of them already bruising.  He remembers biting down to muffle the shout when he’d come the first time, spread out and stretched wide under Chuck’s solid, satisfying bulk.  He’d never been pinned down to a mattress before.  He’d never guessed how much he’d love it.

Still astonished, he’d done his best to drive the man insane when it was his turn on top, bending him over the edge of the bed and taking him gentle and slow until Chuck was crazy with it.  Then he’d flipped him over and just _wrecked_ the man, because he was only human, and Chuck coming undone was one of the best things he’d ever witnessed. 

Afterwards, strung out and slick with sweat, still panting, Chuck had given him the sweetest smile and rumbled his thanks.  Sure, he’d called him “Ray”, which was only moderately less annoying than “Raaaaaaaleigh”, but Raleigh had still had to kiss him for it.  An immoral imperative, if you like.

Looking at him now, Raleigh sighs.  If he had anything like sanity left, he’d already be back in his own quarters already, probably stepping into the shower.  Instead, the sweat is cooling on his skin, he’s sticky, and they both probably reek of sex, but, damn it, he doesn’t want to go.

Maybe a few more minutes, a power nap, won’t hurt.  Even if he just ends up staying right here with him all night.  If Chuck wakes up and kicks him out later, Raleigh can still be gracious about it.  It didn’t _have_ to be weird, did it?

The war’s over, right?  Anything is possible.

He’s willing to take a chance.

Chuck makes a tiny, pleased hum when Raleigh settles against his back and wraps an arm around his waist, pressing up against all that delicious warmth. Jesus, Chuck feels good.  So warm and so solid.  He even smells good.  How is he supposed to resist this?

He and Yancy had an agreement, though.  _No Hansens_.

Well, fuck.

It’s a little too late now.

********

The morning finds Chuck and Raleigh glaring at each other in the mess hall.  They are freshly scrubbed, their hickies are hidden, and between them is a plate with one single waffle left on it.  Forks are being brandished.  Hardly anyone at the tables nearby pays attention to the usual morning show of aggression, but Yancy’s sitting across from them and can’t avoid it.

“Morons,” he tells them eventually.  Then he reaches out, cuts the waffle in half, and sighs dramatically. 

Raleigh beams at him as if he’s the best big brother of all time, and while, okay, that’s kinda nice, the whole thing is still sad.

Chuck applies butter and syrup to both halves of the waffle, neatly deposits one on Raleigh’s plate, and smiles at him.

They lean towards each other.  Despite the squabbling, or maybe because of it, this has been an amazing morning.  Waking up in each other’s warmth, that first, hesitant kiss, and all the fire that had followed… they’re almost giddy with it, which is a fair excuse for this morning’s behavior.

Yancy makes a gagging noise, and Raleigh wads up a napkin and bounces it off his brother’s face without looking.  Then he goes back to getting himself a kiss.

_Perfect._

Yancy sighs.  He’s warned Raleigh, but there he is, completely lost.  Chuck’s got an arm around his brother’s shoulders and is _nuzzling_ him, for Christ’s sake.  It’s tragic, really.

He’s thinking about how, exactly, to convey the magnitude of all this over the ghost drift, when a heavy weight comes down on the bench next to him, an arm slides around his waist, and Herc’s lips press against his cheek.

“Morning, darlin’,” Herc greets him.  Yancy blushes like only a white boy from Alaska can.

“Hey,” Yancy manages, before Herc’s big hand cups his chin and turns his face so he can get a proper kiss.

A filthy, perfect kiss that makes his heart hammer in his chest.

“So, you have a good night, Yance?” Raleigh asks, smirking.

“No worse than yours,” Yancy shoots back.  It’s hard to sound disapproving with Herc nibbling on his neck.  The years since Manila haven’t done a goddamned thing to calm Hansen the Elder down, and Yancy’s still reeling a little.

Damn.

But Herc kisses him again, and…

A wave of happy resignation floods the Becket ghost drift.

Raleigh smiles.  Chuck smiles back.

Yancy whispers something in Herc’s ear that makes him blush like a sunrise.

It looks like the beginning of a damned good day.


End file.
